The Crafty Pig
So here I am, minding my own business in the land of whisky and haggis, and I hear talk of a proper American BBQ joint. Surely not. American BBQ here? I mosey on in to The Crafty Pig, expecting something sad, like somebody had described ribs to them and they blindly went about the kitchen trying to first "build" a pig or something, and then take it apart, piece by piece while hosing it down with some Sweet Baby Ray's they found on the interwebs. I was wrong.
Considering the only ribs I got in Belfast were either Tony Roma's (yes, that's still a thing here) or TGI Fridays, the bar was not set that high. I was raised on my dad's ribs, and barbeque is a religion to him. He brines his ribs for a day in beer, rubs them down, grills them, and sauces them in a fashion that would make proud whatever barbeque god he prays to. So I'm a bit of a snob.
The menu at The Crafty Pig has ribs sauced, rubbed, or both. I figured I'd try the sauced ones first. Expecting some ketchupy monstrousity, it almost knocked me on my ass when it hit my tongue. It was sweet with a mesquite hickory that I fell in love with immediately. I show:
These ribs were perfect. Being the ass that I am, I generally eat with knife and fork when I'm out, and these obliged. Fall-off-the-bone tender is a claim I take very seriously. Note my side of mac and cheese in my wee tin cup. It made a very nice addition to the ribs. A couple days later, I dragged some friends down so I could try the rubbed ribs as well. I did not enjoy them as much, but only because I'm a sauce man. They were still delicious. See:
I made them bring out more sauce for more to pour on. I was so impressed by the technique, I asked the waitress about the head cook and she tells me he took a bit of a pilgrimage to the colonies and did some touring around the south to get his flavor just right. Dude obviously did his damn homework. We had such a good time we dragged the whole crew down for our next jaunt out (special thanks to NaKoma, Leah, Becky, Rachel, and Eimear for coming). Turns out they also do some dogs that kick a little ass. Here's Leah's Mac Dog, it's exactly what it sounds like:
And just for kicks I ordered the Chili Cheese Dog, just to see how it compared with back home.
All on a bed of fries. It's like they want us to come back or something. We decided to all share a dessert, so we grabbed the special (some pancake and ice cream sundae thing) and, well, you can see it's at least two-thirds as tall as Becky:
It may even be taller. Like, a trick of the light. Or something. Either way, if you find yourself in Glasgow, get your ass to the Great Western Road and into The Crafty Pig. Foodies never die. That is all.